There's Beauty in a Car Crash
by whennext2you
Summary: There's been a tragic accident at PPTH, there are worries and comforting gestures and heart ache. They all take it pretty hard, Wilson in particular. House/Wilson. Slash. Character Death.


**Title:** There's Beauty in a Car Crash

**Character Pairing:** House and Wilson

**Rated:** T for Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the House characters and I got the title from a song called: Beauty in a Car Crash by- Flight 409

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_Those frozen eyes, not yet_…House was thinking all about the time he lost his cat when he was younger. How horrified he had been when he saw her lying on the carpet motionless and freezing. He went to comfort her only to find out later that she was dead. His mother grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from the dead creature. His father took the animal outside and - on House's request - brought the animal to the vet and they took care of it from there. That was the first thing he had lost and definitely not the last.

He sat on top of Wilson's desk, his cane clicked nervously against the ground. Wilson sat in an armchair across, not even beginning to look content and calm and his usual persona was. He was pushed all the way to the edge of the seat. His eyes locked on his hands as he twiddled his fingers in a circle trying to avoid them from hitting each other. The dark sun setting peeked through the slightly closed drapes. The light slowly dimmed until only a single lamp lit the room.

Wilson paused, and House had noticed. He had been watching him, anticipating the next movement of his fellow colleague. Wilson looked up with a red face and House looked up as well, looking at those puffy red cheeks. He had been crying, everyone had been. The hospital had been morbid since this morning. Foreman had received a call since House's phone hadn't been charged. The call had been about an accident on a highway just a few blocks away from here. Amber Volakis and Thirteen had been in a terrible car accident being hit by a morning-drunk semi truck that veered off into the oncoming traffic and crushed the car.

Wilson had been dating Amber at the time; he was very much in love with her. Or so he thought. That's what House thought. He could never remember a time where Wilson had actually been in love with any of his girlfriends and convincing never helped the problem. But he was defiantly torn up about both Amber and Thirteen. They were quickly checked into this hospital at 7:15 in the morning and now it was about 6 o'clock in the evening. The sun had gone down and the hopes of sleep were little to none, and the hopes of _hope_ were less definite than sleep.

It wasn't as if House was going to confess his undying love to Wilson right now in hopes that he will forget about his dead girlfriend and move onto him. As much as he wanted that fantasy, nothing could change the fact that both of those girls were in this hospital right now in deadly comas.

It would take time for Wilson to bounce back from this, even if she makes it out alive, those chances were very slim though. And then he looked over to Wilson, he was crying again. He was shaking in silent sobs as his head with placed limply in his hands and he cried his eyes out. House wasn't the type to care. It was just on the inside where he did. His heart ached as his friend sobbed there, shaking with fear, sadness, and anger. Everything to mourning and madness. House would've loved to go over there and wrap an arm around his friend and tell him it was okay when he knew there wasn't a chance for either of them.

The injury status went as so: the impact of the truck crushed in the windshield and the engine almost imploding the inside of the car, the airbags flew out only making suffocating a better chance for them as the car was crushed together. The steering wheel crushed a couple of Thirteen's ribs and damaged a lung. The seat belts got stuck burning their skin from the tightness. The passenger door next to Amber got loose from its hinges and got pushed inside the car. Other vehicles were quick to stop and rescued Thirteen and Amber. About 5 seconds later the car had started on fire. Of course, the driver of the semi-truck was perfectly alright and was sent to prison when the police got there. There wasn't much left for Amber and Thirteen. They had many broken bones including Thirteen's wrists and the dislocation of Amber's kneecap. The witnesses said that they looked gruesome and it was something out of a horror movie.

"Wilson," House said, his voice sounding a harsh raspy as if he was choked up. Wilson didn't say anything; he just calmed down a bit. House limped across the floor and over to the armchair where he sat on the armrest and leaned down to place his head on top of Wilson's. House sought out a holy guidance in his head to tell him what his next move should be. To tell Wilson that it's alright even though it wasn't. To tell him that he loves him even though that seemed like the worst possible time to do so. To tell him that it was destiny and it was meant to be, even though House didn't believe in that mumbo-jumbo destiny shit and that it would be the worst possible time to start believing now when that would make _only_ Wilson feel worse. Then Wilson broke House from his silence.

"Everything that I have ever loved has been hurt or disappointed; I don't even deserve these people that I love. I'm better off just dying and hope that something good will come from it. It would make everyone's life happier." That's when House felt angry, like something just exploded inside of him, that being his heart knowing that Wilson really _did_ believe that killing himself would make everyone's life better.

"You must be joking," House said, but the look of Wilson's hard expression told otherwise. "You can't truly believe this. You are the base of most relationships. I hope you understand. You've held my team together, you've held your wives together, you've held Cuddy together, and you've held me together. Nothing that you've ever done has been your fault. You have people who love you like your family and your friends." Wilson's jaw was agape, his eyes were still watering. That's when House began to soften. "You are my best and greatest friend. Without you…" he paused, thinking of the right way to say what he wanted to get out, "Without you," he repeated and saw those dark creamy brown eyes staring at him, "I wouldn't be anything. I'd probably be dead somewhere, forgotten and in a gutter. I probably would've killed myself from Vicodin. You've saved me so many times." He reached forward and brushed the falling tears from his eyes. "I will do whatever it takes to save you."

Wilson just looked at his friend, wondering what to do, how to react and wondered if that was some sort of undying confession that has been bottled up inside his old friend for so long. Wilson paused and took in a shaky breath. He stood up and brushed his clothing gently, patting down his wrinkled dress pants and looked at House who was still seated on the armrest. Wilson made a quick decision, something that he thought would make the most sense, and yet be the least sensible idea he could ever come up with.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the corner of House's mouth, and when he took a step back House sat their in shock. Wilson's face heated up quickly and he took a few more steps backwards until he hit the coffee table with his shins. Tears flowed freely as he covered his face with his hands and began to sob mumbling something about how he messes everything up all the time.

He didn't even hear House get up and almost jog to his side. But he felt warm, strong hands reach for his face and Wilson stopped and looked at House who was smiling warmly at Wilson. Wilson let a comforting smile come across his face as he let his arms fall at his side. House grabbed Wilson and pulled him to his chest. Wilson quickly wrapped his arms around House and cried a little more softly. House rubbed his back in small circles and shushed him in a comfortable tone.

When the crying finally ceased House and Wilson inched slowly apart from each other and then caught each other's eyes. House leaned forward and caught Wilson's mouth with his own as they engaged in a very passionate, but meaningful kiss.

"Greg," he said, it was only his second time speaking to night, "I'm sorry."

"I don't see what you are apologizing for. You are in a lot of pain in this situation and I would be surprised if you weren't feeling like this."

"That's not it?" it turned out to be more of a question.

"I thought so," House smiled, he had known about his own feelings for about a year, not really knowing about Wilson's besides the fake flirting. "I really do love you," House stated just coming out with it.

"I know," Wilson said, "thank you." And then he slowly leaned forward and brushed his lips softly to House's.

"James?"

"I love you too," he said. And at that, well that was really all. They headed down to where the hospital was keeping Thirteen and Amber. Thirteen was conscious and her face lit up when she saw House and Wilson. Amber wasn't there anymore and House watched as Wilson's heart broke right next to him. House grabbed Wilson's hand and gave it a reassuring squeezed. Cameron was leaning on Chase's shoulder who was next to Cuddy and Taub was standing next to the window. Foreman was staring at Thirteen, holding her hand. Amber was gone. And Thirteen and slightly lost her voice, the impact had crushed her ability to do so and it would slowly come back within time. She was all bandaged up and looked as if she was doing better.

Amber's funeral was a few days later, it was a very hard thing to witness and there were lots of people including her family and friends that were there to witness. House's team, House, Cuddy and Wilson all stood together while they watched the coffin burial from a distance. It was a warm sunny day and they were all sweating in their black outfits, but no one cared. They had lost a fellow friend and hard worker to a tragic accident and all that would come out of it would change who they were. House wasn't fond of funerals but he wanted to keep an eye on Wilson. They never let go of each other's hands and even though one thing is gone, there will always be something new. _There was something beautiful about a funeral,_ House thought, _there's something beautiful about a car crash._

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_There's beauty in a car crash_

_There's beauty in the payback_

_This is my big city shakedown_

_When there's beauty in the breakdown_

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_Thanks for reading (: I really enjoyed writing this, please tell me what you think. Sorry if there are any mistakes, I read it over a few times to make sure that it was alright. Thanks everyone!_


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